Come Back, Daddy!
by Maeleene
Summary: After her mother dies and her father leaves to become a drifter, Virginia wonders what she has left. RR please!


Come Back, Daddy!  
  
By: Jumi-Pearl  
  
~*~  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own WA3. ^_^  
  
A/N: This is just something that came to mind one day (yesterday!) that I felt like writing down! ^_^ R/R please.  
  
~*~  
  
I remember watching him leave, his back turned to me as he left. Mommy was on her knees, unable to catch her breath because of the tears. He wouldn't turn to look at me. He wouldn't even say good-bye! I knew I had to chase after him. I knew he wouldn't come back. So I ran.  
  
He kept going. I couldn't tell if he was changing his pace or not, all I knew was that I couldn't catch him. All I wanted was to hold him, tell him I would miss him. I knew this wasn't one of his ordinary trips. I had a feeling he wouldn't be coming back.  
  
"Daddy!" I screamed, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. "Daddy, come back!" I reached my hand out to him as I ran, feeling I might have had a chance of reaching him I just held my hand out.  
  
The running was exhausting. The gate to Boot Hill was far off in the distance, and I could hardly see it. But I kept running. It hurt, though; hurt to breath. Air was harder to draw in, and I didn't know how much longer I could follow him. I collapsed to my knees, not wanting to stand again.  
  
"Daddy! Please!" He stopped, but I still couldn't reach him. He was to far away. "Don't leave me, Daddy! Don't go!" I could hardly glimpse his face, and his green eyes were hidden underneath the brim of the hat he wore. His hands were clenched into fists, and he was shaking. "Please?" My voice became softer, hardly more than a whisper.  
  
"Virginia." He had rarely called me by my name. Normally, he said, "Ginny", but not then.  
  
"D-Daddy?"  
  
He looked at me then; let me see his eyes. They were filled with tears. Was he hurting too? I remember asking myself why he was leaving if it hurt him, too.  
  
"Virginia, go home." The tears fell then. I couldn't stop them. He wasn't going to tell me good-bye! Memories flooded my mind. The times he had spent teaching my how to fire on ARM, then two. Times when we played tag or hide- and-seek . Times when he read to me, when he taught me to read by myself, and when he smiled when I learned a new word. The days he held me when I cried, or when he celebrated with me when I was happy. He was my daddy, my strong-hold, my life. And now he was telling me to go home!  
  
"Daddy! No!" Couldn't he see my home was with him?  
  
His face became expressionless, and he turned his back to me. He was leaving for good! I knew it then. I had no doubts. He walked away, slowly at first, but then broke into a run. I couldn't follow him. I knew I couldn't. So I sat there and cried, cried my heart out. And when I felt as though I couldn't cry any longer, I cried some more. It hurt so badly. I didn't know how long I had stayed there, but it was my mother who picked me up and carried me home. I didn't feel the bed she laid me on, and I didn't feel the sheets she pulled up over me. I was still cold, and the loneliness inside of me was adding to the freezing night. I cried myself to sleep for the next few weeks, hardly able to wake in the morning and afraid to face the nightmares of night.  
  
That had been a year ago.  
  
I had lost my father at the age of ten, and my mother not long after. It wasn't disease or murder that took her life, that would have easier to face. It had been a broken and lonely heart. I wonder now that if I had been a little more sensitive to her feelings, if I had been there for her, would she still be alive? Aunt Shalte says it's nonsense to think such things, that it wasn't my fault. But I can't help ut feel guilty. Shalte and Telsa just don't understand. I know they love me, but. . . .  
  
I hurts so much. Mommy was the last thing I had. My father left, and my mother died. What more do I have? The numb people say they feel after things like this happens isn't here. They say it's a terrible thing to have, the numbness, but it can't be worse than this emptiness I feel. I'm actually wishing for that numbness.  
  
I don't know how much longer I can live with this pain on my shoulders. Everyday I visit Mommy's grave, and everyday I realize that she's gone. Everyday I wait for my Daddy to come back, but he never does. I know he never will, and I can't bear to think of either of them. The townspeople tell me how sorry they are for me, but it doesn't make it better. It only reminds me. And I've never liked pity, anyway.  
  
Maybe if I wait long enough, Daddy will come back. Or maybe this is a bad dream. But that's what I told myself yesterday.  
  
. . .  
  
Daddy would know how to make the pain disappear. He knew everything.  
  
I can't help but cry. The sky is blue, and the birds are singing, but it feels like a rainy day full of dark clouds and clashing thunder.  
  
Daddy would have fixed it. Daddy would make it all better, make the sky blue again. I know he would have.  
  
. . . Come back, Daddy. . . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: That was a sad story. It almost brought tears to my eyes. *nods* Anyway, R/R please! ^_^ I say that a lot. . . . 


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